007 STAR TREK: Warship Genocide!
by Dan Bivens
Summary: Capella IV was simply a memory for those of the ENTERPRISE for at least the last couple of years. But, without warning and, seemingly without logic, comes an impossibly intelligent though very, very young Teer in a stolen Romulan Warbird to claim the UFP
1. Chapter 1

_**STAR TREK**_

"**WARSHIP _GENOCIDE_!"**

Chapter 1

A binary system's twin G-type stars do a cosmically divine dance in the cold vacuum of space a scant, as far as Space-Time distances were concerned, 42-plus light-years from a blue-green globe playing home to Humans as well as Starfleet Command. With the United Federation of Planets proper headquartered on that third planet of the Sol system.

Sister stars whose distance from one another was, in regards to such stellar measurements, a mere 100 million kilometers. Twin stars whose sole Class-M planet, populated by large, basically barbaric Tribes led by a single solitary Teer...

That, strangely, was still six years away from Capellan puberty. Which happened to occur considerably sooner than in Humans and most humanoids whose worlds lay well within Federation borders.

But such was not the only unique turn of events involving this Teer of the Ten Tribes of Capella IV.

Due to a sudden, but not at all atypical, "leap" in the DNA development revolving 'round the mental acuity of this physically infantile Teer. Something that had happened upon numerous populated planets throughout the Federation and beyond. Wherein some dominant lifeforms took a genetic jump that would inevitably lead to an improved model that would very gradually replace the older ones.

Such as, for Humans, when Cro-Magnon arose to replace, somewhat swiftly it would indeed seem from the overall evolutionary scheme of things, Neanderthal...or when such as Surak of Vulcan came forth from the deep desert dubbed The Forge to, generally, lead all of Vulcan to logic-over-emotion.

And such was the case on Capella IV with...

"My son, Teer Leonard James Akaar, speaks wisely," the still lovely Eleen, despite the passage of Capellan years, which were harder and shorter than that of Humans. "And rightly! This visit from a Romulan warrior from what they call a warbird so high above our Ten Tribes, does, indeed, offer our world...our race!...with a way to take our righteous rule to other 'tribe-planets'."

"But why should we listen," began a broad shouldered, 6'10" inheritor to Maab named Noor with detectable disdain for his too-young Teer, "to this...freak of nature? Someone who, at his young-in-years level of Life, should still be struggling with being weaned from his mother's ample bosom. Much less speaking as a battle-tried man!"

Just as Eleen, wife to a killed-in-battle leader, Akaar, mother to his posthumous heir, slowly stood in order to rail against a slightly taller Noor...

"You should listen because _I_ am Teer," viciously snarled the son in question as he eased himself into a standing position before his father's fur-covered throne. And, although his actual accrued years of Life loosely matched that of a two-year-old Human...

It was his supreme sentience and far-seeing desires which were wholly unequaled by any adult Capellan. As well as his mercilessness when it came to any condescension...

Ssssslasssshhhh!

Whereas his unparalleled malignity managed to allow so small a hand to suddenly produce a razor-sharp sword from a scabbard hanging at his childlike waist, which would cut quickly and deeply through the clothed-in-Maab-like black of Noor's titanic, to him!, torso...

"Urk--!"

Thud!

Which brought forth dark red that preceded the dropping, dead!, of the Capellan previously towering o'er Teer Leonard James Akaar.

A sinister smirk graced his too-young countenance, as this prepubescent ruler of all Capella IV allowed his bloody sword to, seemingly, loosely dangle in his child-like hand as dark red dribbled onto the Teer tent's dirt-hard ground.

All while glaring warningly up at some of the other topknot-of-hair-through-headgear, thick-muscled men of Capella IV, warriors one-and-all!, and speaking with the cold confidence of someone many, many, many years his senior.

"If we Capellans are to ever rise to lay claim to our True Birthright...we must extend our power far beyond our own world. Otherwise, such as the Romulans and the Klingons before...even the Humans from which my two godfathers hail!...shall forever find ways to manipulate our planet..._our_ planet!...for their own selfish necessities. Follow me, my Capellan comrades...and I shall lead you all...to greatness!"

With that, he lifted high the bloody blade, and a raucous warriors' roar thundered through the tent of the Teer and would soon swell to overwhelm their world...

Then, as the call of coming triumph fell into silence, a sword's wiped-clean blade was pressed threateningly 'neath the chin of a tightly-bound-to-tent post Romulan Commander. The same whom had beamed down nearly three hours earlier with a small-but-excessively self-assured away team from the Romulan Warbird orbiting above.

An away team that had been quite quickly lulled into a fatally false sense of security, especially so upon seeing the seeming toddler barely filling the fur-covered throne in the Teer's tent. His beauteous but all-too-Human appearing parent, Eleen, sprawled in a seat situated next to that of Leonard James Akaar.

Yet another psychological slap in the aphoristic face for one Commander T'Kornak and his helmeted men. To think: this Teer, with whom they must meet in order to obtain ore rights, particularly topaline, bore the name of two of the most hated Humans serving on the accursed starship, U.S.S. ENTERPRISE.

Such may have helped in making the nature of the situation seem completely non-confrontational, before...

Thweeew-tweerp! Thweeew-tweerp! Thweeew-tweerp! Thweeew-tweerp!

"Uhn!"

...whilst triple-tipped kilgats whistled straight and true in order to render disrupter-armed Romulan warriors, attached as security for T'Kornak, bloody and dead in a matter of moments.

And now this Freak Child held hostage a Romulan Commander before being threatened with a razor-edged sword that had already bloodily killed one of the Teer's own before fellow Capellan combatants. There was only one thing left to do the instant his ropes were slashed...

"This is Commander T'Kornak," the snarling Romulan, wearing the proper rank sash over slightly shimmering red-and-blue battle tunic, ordered via his hand-held communicator. "Six to transport up. Immediately!"

"Yes, Commander."

As the vicious snarl on the plump little face of Teer Leonard James Akaar became a sly smile, not only he and the Romulan Commander, but four of the Teer's bravest warriors, currently carrying disruptors taken from earlier-murdered helmeted Romulans...

"Commander T'Kornak, what...?"

Pfzzzzttt! Pfzzzzttt! Pfzzzzttt! Pfzzzzttt! Pfzzzzttt!

Within a half-hour, whereby all but those most necessary to the operation of so alien a craft as the Romulan Warbird...something unimaginable to most minds from Capella IV, but not so much to the mutated mind of the little Teer!...were brutally burned down via Capellans carrying disruptors.

It would one day be considered the most historically humiliating moment for Romulus. Save for the irrefutable fact that no Praetor would allow such an embarrassment to ever become common knowledge..even to the Senators. Let alone lowly citizens of the Star Empire.

But almost as an appropriated-by-Teer Leonard James Akaar Romulan Warbird attacked those of neighboring star systems, that were part and parcel of the United Federation of Planets, on this Stardate of 4981.4...

"Captain," Lt. Nyota Uhura relayed from her station situated behind her handsome commander's center seat, "incoming from Starfleet Command. Code-marked...urgent!"

As usual in such potentially tense situations, not only Captain James T. Kirk, but everyone else assigned to bridge-related work, most especially those seated at stations important to the operation of a Warp-traveling starship, perked up...

Even Commander Spock, the half-Human/half-Vulcan all-logical science officer/first officer of the esteemed ENTERPRISE, pricked up his pointy-tipped ears while lifting a single slanted brow.

"On screen, Lieutenant," ordered Captain Kirk quite quickly, although it seemed to all save Spock to have taken a lot longer to articulate the expected response.

"Aye, aye, sir," Lt. Uhura said as she swiftly allowed well-manicured/very experienced fingers to fly across the self-illuminated controls with which to comply with Kirk's normally commonplace command.

Two or three short-but-seemingly-too slow seconds later, a white-haired high-ranking Starfleet official's face shimmered onto the viewscreen that, just prior to this subspace transmission crossing the parsecs separating starship from homeworld, had shown only star-streaked Warped space...

"Admiral Komack?" uttered Kirk as he shifted anxiously in his center seat, already anticipating something especially apocalyptical.

"Captain Kirk," sternly stated Komack, while coldly looking out of the over-sized viewer dominating the minds and hearts of this illustrious starship's bridge personnel, "we have a serious situation taking place a few light-years from Capellan space. Beginning with an interrupted subspace communique from two Federation worlds along the Auriga-Gemini border. It'll be burst-transmitted to your ship's Communications, but suffice it to say...it involves a violent invasion-in-progress!"

"From whom?" Kirk asked sharply, as he leaned forward with forearms resting on his knees, even as the rest of him tensed tautly due to such dire implications.

A short-but-noticeable pause preceded Admiral Komack's quite unexpected reply...

"Teer Leonard James Akaar and a handful of loyal Capellans are apparently in total control of some surviving Romulans in their commandeered Warbird! Details of which will also be burst-transmitted to Communications."

Suddenly, the clear illogic, as Spock might've stated it, of contacting the ENTERPRISE, which was twice as far from the aforementioned close-to-Capella IV space Sectors being attacked, since at least two to four other Starfleet starships were closer still!, became quite clear...

"You want us to intercept," said Captain James T. Kirk while silently switching "us" for Dr. Leonard H. McCoy and himself. "Because of our 'relation' to the Teer and his mother, Eleen..."

"I want them stopped, James!" suddenly said the Admiral a moment prior to putting an abrupt end to his subspace messaged commands. "Before their threat to Federation security and stability spreads toward Earth. By any means necessary! Starfleet out."

Almost slumping into his command chair, Captain Kirk ordered of Lt.-Commander Montgomery Scott on the upper tier to his left, "Mr. Scott, we'll need maximum-plus Warp speed."

"Aye, Cap'n," Scotty sighed almost musically via his Scottish accented intonation, even as Kirk thumbed a button on the right arm of his center seat to speak with...

"Bones...meet Spock and me in the main briefing room. Fast! We have...'family trouble'."

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"He's doing what?"

Dr. Leonard H. McCoy's scowling reaction was as expected by not only Commander Spock, but by Captain James T. Kirk as well. The three of them seated about the oddly-shaped multi-person conference escritoire in the main briefing room some six decks down from the bridge and one down from sickbay.

"Doctor," Mr. Spock said just as stoically as always, a single slanted brow rising sharply as a pseudo-window into what the half-Human/half-Vulcan was considering, "have you allocated time for Nurse Chapel to properly examine your physicality? It would seem your hearing might not be completely capable of comprehensively picking up on our present situation so astutely expressed, 16.7 seconds earlier, by the Captain."

While a smile of amusement momentarily played upon the lips of their friend and commanding officer in gold-green tunic, Dr. McCoy's scowl only deepened as a he heaved a very heavy sigh prior to replying to the perpetually non-plussed Vulcan in the blue of the ship's Sciences so similar to his own.

But, as far as this physician was concerned, that was where any semblance of similarity came to an end.

"Spock, when the hell're you gonna make up your computer-like mind as to whether or not you're going with your Human half or you Vulcan one?"

Knitting those slanted brows and wriggling, barely, those pointy-tipped ears even as his normally pallid complexion flushed ever-so-slightly with a wee bit more green than ordinarily observable...

"I am at a loss as to understand your question, Doctor. Perhaps it is posed as one of your race's 'rhetorical queries'. Something my people consider especially wasteful since any interrogatory statement should be posed solely for the purpose of acquiring an answer to any..."

"I was insulting you, you green-blooded...!"

"All right, gentlemen, all right," Captain Kirk cut in so as to bring them back to the true nature of this meeting of the three. "Let's put a pin in that for the moment and discuss how..."

"Excuse me, Captain. 'Put a pin in...'?" asked Spock in pure puzzlement, which, again, went against the grain of McCoy much more so than in the instant that had just passed.

"Dammit, Spock, do you have to act like you've just dropped from a Vulcan tree instead of having been with us 'poor Humans' on this starship for nearly...!"

"Bones!" came Kirk's much more forceful response of reproachfulness, which would have the desired effect in ending the otherwise typical byplay between his Chief Medical Officer and his Science Officer/First Officer. Which, were it not for the current earnestness of what was taking place some sixteen parsecs away, would've most definitely been entertaining.

"Sorry, Jim."

"My apologies, Captain."

"To reiterate, Bones," continued Kirk even as he deactivated the centralized tri-screen viewer hovering over the middle of the table about which the three had sat for several tension-making minutes. "The two-plus year old, as such is measured by Humans, Teer...named after you and me by his Regent, Eleen...has, as we speak, assumed a stance of offense against at least three Federation worlds along the spatial borders between Capellan space and..."

"So what the hell're we supposed to do, Jim?" groaned the Doctor in controlled interruption, but with an apologetic affectation as understood as was their ever-growing friendship. "Scold him and send him back to his room on Capella IV while destroying the Romulan Warbird with a couple of photon torpedoes?"

"To 'scold' the young Teer of the Ten Tribes would most certainly seem insufficient," readily remarked Mr. Spock via knitted slanted brows. "Especially in as much as it would tend to 'fan the flames', so to speak, and create greater enmity between..."

"It was a figure of speech, Spock," bemoaned McCoy while rolling his eyes 'neath tightly knitted owl-like brows.

"Indeed," said Spock as passionlessly as possible, whilst still purposely insulting, just a little, his Human foil fretfully glaring at him from the opposite side of the misshapen escritoire.

"Mr. Spock," said Captain James T. Kirk as he intentionally ignored the half-Vulcan/half-Human's meant-as-an insult two-syllabled statement, "any suggestions on how we might turn back the Teer without hurting our relations with Capella IV and without having to fire upon a warbird? Which would no doubt rattle a lot of cages on Romulus, I'm sure."

After a few syrupy slow seconds, as far as Kirk and McCoy came to subconsciously see it via their all-too-Human modes of observation in times of stress, Spock spoke.

"The only logical approach presently open to us, Captain, would be for you and Dr. McCoy to attempt to establish a physically personalized two-on-one meeting meant to facilitate familial 'feelings'. After which, assuming such were successful, it would logically seem somewhat more likely to convince the Capellan child to, indeed, proceed back to his planet in return for a much more articulated participation within the United Federation of Planets. Thus simulating a significant escalation in 'personal power' that would, also logically, allow for a predictably predetermined amount of mock 'victory' that could placate any need to appear as anything less than a profoundly powerful leader of the Capellan populace."

As Captain Kirk quietly considered Spock's singularly logical statements, Dr. McCoy made it a point to poke holes in all that had been so thoughtfully and thoroughly laid out by someone as much a friend, secretly, of course!, as an archetypal opponent well worth the apparent aggravation.

"First of all, Spock, Teer Leonard James Akaar is no 'child'...at least not by any normal means even in the hardship-fraught Capellan lifestyle. He's some sort of...mutant, I suppose is the best description. A freakish genetic jump forward for Capellan physiological development as it pertains to the brain."

"The terms 'mutant' and 'freakish' hardly...," started Spock, only to be rudely cut short by a certain constantly cranky CMO.

"And, given the fact that, emotionally at least, the Teer is still very much like a Human child of two," continued an undaunted Dr. McCoy, "then it's a lot more likely that what you suggest we do will only piss him off and cause a temper tantrum that might just destroy..."

"Spock's right, Bones," suddenly said Captain Kirk, having made up his dynamic mind, which was something even the ever-irascible CMO could not hope to unmake in a million imaginary years. "We'll use our status as the boy's 'godfathers', established by Eleen shortly after his birth when she officially christened the infant Leonard James Akaar."

Even as McCoy's mien melted into his characteristic mask of extreme skepticism, and even as Spock's shone with a barely observable...save by someone as close to him as James T. Kirk!...sense of an actual, as well as illogical, self-pride, the Captain added a well-considered caveat.

"But, Mr. Spock, should such fail to garner an agreement from the young Teer to return to Capella IV and surrender the Romulan Warbird he has appropriated for purposes of violent invasion...we'll kill him and all aboard in order to bring about peace and security to Federation worlds once more."

Even Dr. Leonard H. McCoy couldn't hide the fact that such a fatalistic action against someone whom he, personally, helped to bring into the proverbial world deeply disturbed him...

And so, too, did Spock seem especially pained, in his own singularly Vulcan manner, over having to destroy such a seemingly miraculous permutation in regards to the prevailing lack of intellect thus far existing so consistently within the Capellan lineage.

Yet, as always when faced with such extreme situations wherein Federation preservation was paramount, both blue-shirted top officers resigned themselves to carry out their commander's decisions.

Then all three, perhaps a bit more crestfallen than when first arriving in the primary briefing room on Deck Six, exited through rapidly parting doors in order to return to Deck One...Dr. McCoy as well at this particularly important-to-him point!...and ready themselves for either the hope of a harmonious meeting with someone they had not seen since his cave-located birth.

Or for the promise of regret, even for Spock!, at the physical destruction of someone only recently reaching self-realization.

Either way, there were Federation worlds filled with persons numbering in the trillions quite literally relying on what would happen in the coming confrontation 'twixt two starship "godfathers" and their "mutant" namesake.

END OF CHAPTER 2


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I repeat," transmitted the unseen C.O. of a sharp-edged security vessel soaring straight up from the surface of its beautiful blue-red world. "You are transgressing the space of Altair VI and breaching Federation regulations regarding member-planet propriety. As well as long-held laws pertaining to Romulan Warbirds in Federation regions of the Alpha Quadrant! Respond or else we shall be forced to open fire and disable your nacelles."

"Listen to them," scoffed the sovereign ruler of Capella IV, Teer Leonard James Akaar. "Pleading laws and scolding us as a parent to its unruly child. Power up plasma weapon! Prepare to reduce this smaller ship and its cringing crew into blasted bits to hurtle harmlessly into surrounding space."

"As you wish, Teer," nodded one of the Capellan casts of barbarous warriors, dressed head-to-booted feet in a lavender leotard-type habiliment complimented by a single sash of bluish pelt. Something similar, save in its precise color combination, to all soldiers in service to their Teer. "Fire your power weapon at that craft, Romulan!"

That relayed Royal Order was punctuated by the pointing of a Romulan disrupter directly at a leg of the Vulcan-like Centurion kept alive for just such a situation. For the blasting off of a single solitary leg would not necessarily kill...but it would elicit an incredible degree of agony.

Even from a Romulan Centurion.

Scant seconds later...

Fzzzz-FOOOOMMM!

In the seconds quickly following the release of reddish Romulan plasma...

...the security craft from Altair VI silently exploded in the airlessness of space separating attacking warship, secretly called, by Leonard James Akaar, GENOCIDE!, from fully protected-via-the Federation world.

Even if one not too long a member of same.

"Enter the atmosphere of this puny planet," sinisterly snarled the child-leader with a mind more maturated than that of any Capellan adult, as well as the apparent intellect of the off-worlders whom had visited two years earlier. "Target the largest of their slothful cities with this ship's photon torpedoes. I want it utterly leveled! Let it act as an excellent example of what would await any whom would oppose us. Whom would oppose me! Quickly!"

"Your very Word is Absolute Law, Teer," half-bowed a broad-shouldered Capellan soldier dressed in a similar leotard-like raiment of bright red with dark red fur sash, as his disruptor weapon was aimed at an appendage of another Romulan Centurion pressed into the service of Leonard James Akaar. "You will loosen your energy orbs onto the greatest of cities as instructed...or I will relieve you of your left arm!"

Though the Centurion silently swore, in Romulan, for having to destroy a city of yet another planet of the dreaded Federation...

Fuhh-PUUMM! Fuhh-PUUMM! Fuhh-PUUMM!

Ba-BROOOOMMM! Ba-BROOOOMMM! Ba-BROOOOMMM!

...such stemmed not from any sense of disgust regarding the cold-blooded killing of countless thousands of innocents, but from the fact such had not been sanctioned by the Senate nor promoted by the Praetor of Romulus.

Which would, quite naturally, mean it could never be considered a Star Empire triumph.

"Heheheheh," lightly laughed, in a vile villainous manner, the misleadingly cherubic child-leader from far-off, after warping away in a sadistically expropriated Warbird, Capella IV. "We have, thus far, forced four Federation worlds to submit to our superiority. My superiority! And as yet no starship has dared to defy us. Capellan rule...my rule!...shall soon stretch all the way to the star system of my Human 'godfathers'. An unknowable number shall come to tremble at the mention of my name...Leonard James Akaar!"

Meanwhile, no more than three parsecs distant and quickly closing...

"Captain's log, Stardate: 4981.8. After receiving an urgent subspace transmission from Starfleet Command's Admiral Komack...regarding an aggressively attacking Romulan Warbird stolen by a two-year old Teer named after myself and Dr. McCoy, no less!...the ENTERPRISE has pushed her engines to a sustained Warp Factor 8.4! A relativistic velocity equivalent to nearly 639-billion kilometers-per-hour for several stress-filled...for both the engines and my crew compliment of officers and ensigns!...hours. Already word had come from Altair VI via subspace to attest to just how severe the situation was quickly becoming."

"Message complete, Captain," came a mildly worried report from Lt. Nyota Uhura from directly behind, and up one entire tier, the center seat of Captain James T. Kirk.

"On audio, Lieutenant," worriedly ordered Kirk, even as an intensely scowling Dr. Leonard H. McCoy continued to stand to the left side of the centralized command chair in the middle of the lower of the two tiered Deck One.

"Aye, Captain."

Just then, catching the attention of the entirety of the bridge, including, logically of course!, Commander Spock at his Science station, came the audio-only automated transmission from a recently assaulted Class-M member-world of the UFP...

"Repeating: a Romulan Warbird, having violated not only Federation borders but the sovereign space of Altair VI, first destroyed a security ship sent to warn away the craft. Then the capitol city of Altair VI...wherein resided our revered President since Stardate: 3372!...was largely obliterated by several photon torpedoes from that self-same Romulan Warbird. Request assistance for those still alive in the smoldering rubble of our once-celebrated city. And we demand some level of vengeance against those responsible for such an atrocity! Repeating..."

Just as the subspace auto-transmission started again, a hard hand-signal from Captain Kirk caused Lt. Uhura, that ebony beauty in red tunic-dress seated so seductively, or so it sometimes seemed!, at the Communications station, to silence the insistent signal.

Suddenly tossing out orders to pertinent bridge officers, Kirk quickly commanded, "Uhura, relay the request for assistance from Altair VI to Starfleet Command and the nearest Starbases. Mr. Spock, long-range scans of Altair space...try to pick up the Warp trail of that Romulan Warbird and transfer the trajectory readings to Navigation. Ensign Chekov, take those readings and plot a follow-course for the Romulan Warbird. Lt. Sulu, increase speed to Warp 8.7. Lt.-Commander Scott, keep the engines from falling apart long enough to reach that Warbird."

"Yes, Captain."

"Affirmative, Captain."

"Aye, Keptin."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"I'll do me best, Cap'n."

As all 'round the bridge, officers worked to carry out person-specific orders delivered so determinedly by Captain Kirk, the handsome starship commander looked up to an equally concerned Chief Medical Officer on his left...

"It's beginning to look like just talking the young Teer out of all this isn't going to go as previously planned, Bones."

McCoy mulled it over via a mask of internalized despair and fearful realization that that aphoristic ship had, indeed, long since sailed. Then he lamentably looked down into the stress-filled face of his incomparable commander and fast friend in order to respond in a quiet-yet-moderately profane fashion...

"No shit."

END OF CHAPTER 3


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Having traversed, via a very perilous Warp 8.7!, the interstellar distance to Altair VI: the handsome thirty-something commander of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE first offered assurances to the planet's President that there would, indeed, be other starships streaking in at maximum-plus Warp speeds. It would then be they whom would attend to the needs of he and his correspondingly pugnacious peoples.

After which, upon proceeding at maximum Impulse out of the twin-star system...

"Cap'n!" Lt.-Commander Montgomery Scott anxiously said via his always lyrical brogue from the port side of the two-tiered bridge. "I don't know how much longer these engines can handle Warp 8.7! Their not designed for such a sustained past-maximum output for this bloody long! Anything past Warp 7 is just too damned...!"

"Warp 8.8, Lt. Sulu," suddenly ordered a determined-as-hell Captain James T. Kirk, causing his Deck One officers, Spock as well!, to silently glare at him for several impossibly slow seconds. Then...

"Captain?" Lt. Hikaru Sulu sheepishly asked, even as such was swiftly seconded by Scotty, whom had leaped up from his swiveling seat to step up to the red railing separating his side of the upper tier from lower wherein sat his Captain.

"Cap'n, the ship just can't handle that kind of Warp Factor! Not without some 'magical' entity usin' his or her superhuman powers to prevent the engines from blowin' or the ship herself from shakin' apart like a...!"

"Understood, Mr. Scott," curtly cut in Kirk somewhat forcefully, "just keep us together a little longer. Mr. Sulu! Warp. Eight. Point. Eight."

"Y-yes, s-sir," stammered a scared-yet-dutiful Lieutenant manning the helm, while, hesitantly at first, programming said supra-luminary speed equivalent into his multi-colored/self-illuminated controls. "Warp 8.8...engaged."

Suddenly, the deckplates creaked, the bulkheads whimpered, and a whine from far below the bridge...more than fourteen decks to be exact!...let everyone realize just how incredibly dangerous such a sustained warped space speed would, indeed, be.

And was subjectively reflected in the face of a certain Lieutenant-Commander in red directly responsible for all things Engineering...

"Mr. Scott," swiftly said a stern-faced Captain Kirk never even glancing in his Chief Engineer's direction, "I would strongly suggest you turn your attention back to your controls...and keep the ENTERPRISE in one piece as long as possible."

"Aye, Cap'n," heavily heaved Lt.-Commander Scott as he reseated himself at his port-positioned station, even as Dr. Leonard H. McCoy made it his business to press the patently dangerous decision made a mere moment before by this sterling starship commander.

"Dammit, Jim, have you lost your ever-lovin' mind? Warp 8.7 for hours was bad enough...but Warp 8.8 is just askin' for trouble!"

"Bones..."

"What good will it do to blow ourselves into atoms before reaching that stolen Romulan Warbird? How the hell would we be able to talk to the Teer...our 'godson'...if we're nothin' but a bunch of destroyed, disconnected...?"

"Doctor!"

This time, with such a harsh tone and affectation whilst directly addressing the CMO as that physician's superior, Captain James T. Kirk successfully shattered any chance of a scorching tongue-lashing by the Lieutenant-Commander in blue.

"If we don't get to Teer Leonard James Akaar fast enough, then another Federation world will suffer the consequences. Then another after that. And another. And another."

The scowling countenance of the owl-like fellow silently expressed just how extremely incensed McCoy, the man not the starship officer, truly felt. Still, Kirk's brand of all-too-Human logic, just as sickeningly accurate as could've come from Mr. Spock, was far too hard to brush aside.

As Commander Spock, presently standing at his station's scanner hood in order to readily search via sensors for the Romulan Warbird, looked on with a single lifted slanted brow...

Captain Kirk took Dr. McCoy's tense silence as unspoken acceptance of the situation, as his own tense expression stared straight at the forward viewscreen and its display of extremely stretched out star-streaks so indicative of induced hyperspacial faster-than-light relativistic velocities...

Which, at Warp 8.8, had jumped from some 639-billion kilometers-per-hour to a hair more than 734-billion. A sudden increase of nearly 96 billion kph in less than a second of shipboard time.

Kirk could only hope and pray, whichever would inevitably do the most good!, that such was just enough to get them within both visual and striking distance, if such should become requisite!, before anymore worlds were harmfully reached by a recently purloined Romulan Warbird...

One that had been, secretly at least, dubbed by Teer Leonard James Akaar as GENOCIDE. A word not known to the average adult Capellan, yet which was fully understood by an unnaturally intelligent two-year-old Capellan leader.

Whom, at that self-same moment, was professionally forewarned, reluctantly!, via a purposely-kept-alive Romulan Centurion working the warbird's sensors...

"A Constitution-class starship is closing from our aft," the Centurion dutifully, even when held to said duties at the point of a Capellan-held Romulan disruptor pistol. "Odds are very high that it is...the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE."

"A few aft-released photon torpedoes would end that situation quite quickly," said the also-abducted Romulan Commander named T'Kornak, reacting as any Romulan would when presented with the possibility of destroying any Starfleet starship.

Let alone the hated-by-all-Romulans ENTERPRISE.

"No!" Leonard James suddenly said, with more emotion than he'd intended, something not at all lost on neither Romulan nor Capellan. "No. Let them get closer. Let them establish ship-to-ship. Such is no doubt what they've been ordered to do...before even entertaining the idea of destroying us."

Commander T'Kornak inclined his head while hooded eyes, dominated by deeply knitted slanted brows as well as wriggling, only slightly!, pointy-tipped ears, and regarded the freakishly intelligent child with utter and total contempt.

Contempt not only born of being bested by a planet's primitives, but by the fact that this mutant-minded two-year-old was apparently allowing some sort of sentiment regarding his Human "godfathers", for whom he'd been named, to cloud his battle logic.

For, though the Romulan race basically clung to their hotter-than-Human emotions, their roots with an ancient Vulcan world still held out for a degree of logic that had predated such as Surak. The Vulcan-held aphoristic Father of Total Logic.

T'Kornak couldn't help but allow a slight smile to play on his, thus far, begrudgingly obliging visage. He believed that this Teer's Human-like shortcoming would, ultimately, become this freakish child's downfall.

Then the Romulans left alive via the well-executed attack on Capella IV would, at long last, be able to bloodily bring about a level of Vengeance Supreme on behalf of their murdered compeers.

Not to mention utterly destroying those of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE.

Most especially their most despised Human nemesis...Captain James T. Kirk.

END OF CHAPTER 4


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I gave you a Royal Order, Romulan!" shouted a hate-filled follower of Teer Leonard James Akaar, while pointing a disrupter pistol straight at the Centurion's single solitary leg.

Ignoring the threat to his person, the Romulan Centurion responsible for speed and direction in regards to the Warbird re-dubbed, but not aloud as yet, the GENOCIDE, proudly replied...

"It is not safe to increase our speed to a point beyond ship's maximum! We would risk our very own death amidst the ensuing destruction from an exploding Warp core!"

Not one to argue, as was the case with any Capellan combatant, especially so once a Teer, even a two-year-old with mutant-like intellect!, had issued his regal decrees...

Fzzzzzt!

"Ahhhggg!"

The bluish burst of concentrated energy from the Romulan disrupter weapon, held in the hand of the taller Capellan, bloodlessly blasted away over two-thirds of the Centurion's left leg.

His corresponding scream of sudden and swift agony greatly disgraced the remaining Romulans.

And not just the Centurions, but Commander T'Kornak as well. For no soldier in service to the Star Empire should've ever openly expressed such suffering. Especially before primitives whom had already humiliated them long before leaving Capella IV.

As the pallor deepened, sans any tinge of green!, upon the Vulcan-like countenance of the still-tormented Centurion, he held to his certitude in regards to not greatly increasing hyperspacial speed...

...until the little Teer wordlessly ordered one of his brave warriors, this one in a head-to-booted feet leotard-like habiliment of blue with darker blue pelt, to aim a disrupter pistol at the proud head of the Romulan Commander himself.

Though T'Kornak would never display anything less than sheer self-determination as undaunted as any a person of Romulan rank dared to demonstrate before bridge-related Centurions...

"Very well," groaned a greatly agonized, though, now, not at all aloud!, Centurion working controls that were related to Warp Factored relativistic velocities. "I shall increase to...Warp 8.8."

"And?" snarlingly asked the two-year-old, ultra-intelligent Teer even as the Capellan who'd destroyed the Centurion's left leg now offered to repeat the act of disruptor violence via the right.

"And," continued the secretly racked-by-unspeakable-pain Centurion, still screaming from the bloodless stump that had, merest moments earlier, been his left leg. "I shall turn the Warbird...and direct it straight toward the trailing starship."

Even as the threatening hand holding a stolen-by-Capellans disrupter pistol lowered from his head, Commander T'Kornak silently expressed his disgust that any Centurion would allow himself to be so manipulated. Even whenever the very life of a Romulan Commander was balanced in the bargain.

Had the roles been reversed, T'Kornak would've never caved. He would've allowed his Commander's head to be blasted into a billion bloodless bits. Then defiantly dare the Capellan who'd destroyed his left leg to do so with the right. Then to both left and right arms. And, at last, thankfully after so much stomach-wrenching pain-beyond-pain!, his head.

Now, no matter the Romulan Commander's words to the contrary, their Warbird, the GENOCIDE to such as Teer Leonard James Akaar!, would head directly for the ENTERPRISE. At slightly faster than 734-billion kilometers-per-hour in a childishly deadly game Humans had decreed, three centuries earlier: Chicken!

Although the Teer knew nothing of such a previous practice by daredevil adolescents from the self-same homeworld of his "godfathers", such still seemed to seep forth from some seemingly insignificant subconscious corner of his mutant mind.

Commander Spock would've easily explicated such an impossible parallel as part of the eternally intertwined Fabric of Life-Conscious. Such as what he had come to comprehend, and report, regarding a non-tactile mind meld with the Thasians years earlier, starting in Stardate 1532.9.

Not that it mattered. The end-result of such was still the potential destruction of two warp-traveling vessels. In the case of a Constitution-class starship, the demise of some 430 men and women.

Teer Leonard James Akaar was working from something told him by his mother, Eleen, in regards to those for whom he had been named. The irrefutable fact that such as Captain James T. Kirk and Dr. Leonard H. McCoy were mired, from a Capellan point-of-view, in something Humans called: compassion.

It would doubtless be that Human emotional trait, and weakness according to hard-hearted Capellan perspectives!, that would ultimately lead to the ENTERPRISE's CO to turn aside his ship.

"Mind repeating that, Mr. Spock?" Captain Kirk quickly asked with an elevated level of pre-action tension. Something significantly sharper and more easily noticeable upon the ever-expressive face of Dr. McCoy.

Both turning toward the half-Human/half-Vulcan currently looking down into his station's scanner hood as blue-illuminated data danced before fiercely knitted slanted-browed dark eyes...

"I have redoubled the forward sweeps of ship's sensors, Captain, and there can be no mistaking the situation currently concerning the recently expropriated Romulan Warbird."

As if purposely prolonging his response so as to elicit enhanced emotional stress within the bridge officers situated about the two-tiered topmost saucer section deck, Spock stood stock-straight whilst half-turning toward the centrally-seated starship commander...

"The Warbird is, indeed, heading in on a collision course with the ENTERPRISE at a similar maximum-plus Warp Factor. I estimate seventy-five-point-two-four-nine seconds before impact point is invariably reached."

"He's testing us," said Captain Kirk aloud as such was seriously considered by him even as not only McCoy, but Sulu, Chekov, and, out of the corner of the Captains squintingly serious eye, Scotty stared straight and hard right back at the handsome commanding officer.

"And?" McCoy finally proffered with more than a little vocally and facially expressed concern for their survival so directly denoting what the others were more privately visualizing as their End. "Don't mess around with this little bastard, Jim! Turn this ship away before it's too late!"

"No."

That single-syllabled, softly-spoke response from Captain Kirk caused everyone, even the ever-emotionless Mr. Spock, to look long and hard at the man seated so tensely on the very edge of middle-of-the-lower-tier command chair...

Even as, on the viewscreen amidst stretched-out star-streaks, so associated with an already dangerous Warp Factor 8.8, there came the rapidly growing-in-size-as-it-quickly-closed Romulan Warbird absconded by Capellans led by a child of unprecedented intellect and, now, nerve...

With only seconds separating either from near-instantaneous destruction.

"Jim!"

END OF CHAPTER 5


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6/Conclusion

"Thirty-six seconds to impact!"

The Romulan Centurion responsible for such sensor sweeps, currently directed forward, had delivered that data-simplified statement a little more emotionally than normal. His mind a mass of convoluted considerations ranging from fear over the imminent mutual destruction of their Warbird with the Starfleet starship.

To a certain aspect of Supreme Pride over delivering Death to sworn enemies of the Star Empire.

Even if such a situation was ostensibly taking place under duress from a handful of Capellans holding Romulan disruptors. And led by a child as intelligent as anyone who'd spent much of his short life far from the primitive planet in Capellan space.

"Stay the course," sternly said the two-year-old Teer named Leonard James Akaar, which was Eleen's encomium meant to honor two Humans who'd not only delivered the child, but defeated the deceptively evil Klingon called Kra. Or, at least as such was seen through Capellan eyes!, helped them to hand that now-hated Klingon into the Hands of Dishonorable Death.

"They are not turning," the one-legged, thanks to a recent blast from a stolen disruptor pistol!, Romulan Centurion seated at the Helm/Navigation station stated succinctly and, just a little, logically. "There is still time to activate the cloaking device while simultaneously unleashing a plasma blast...Teer."

Even as the not-afraid-to-die-but-preferring-to-live Capellan adults, dressed as all soldiers sworn to their world's leader, cut their eyes toward the two-year-old mutant-minded Leonard James Akaar seated so self-assuredly in the center seat of the Romulan bridge...

"Maintain course and speed," the tiny Teer ordered with the royalty of some sovereign ruler at least twenty times older, physically speaking. His large child-like eyes never wavering from the deadly display on the slightly smaller viewscreen of the Romulan Warbird he'd dubbed, still just for himself!, GENOCIDE.

The Constitution-class starship called ENTERPRISE was still heading in at the self-same speed of Warp 8.8. And, with only scant seconds to spare before the two vessels slammed headlong into one another to cause simultaneous destruction!, not noticeably turning the merest fraction from the ramming course first set into immutable motion by little Leonard James Akaar.

"Eighteen seconds, until...!" boisterously began the sensor-stationed Centurion on the bridge of the Romulan Warbird.

"...the ENTERPRISE impacts with the Romulan vessel at a sustained-by-both relativistic velocity in excess of 734-billion kilometers-per-hour," passionlessly completed Commander Spock, stooped over the scanner hood of his starboard-situated station on the illustrious starship's Deck One.

"Dammit, Jim, you can't do this!" Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, sweat streaming down his twisted-via-apprehension-and-anger grimace, still standing to the left side of the seated Captain James T. Kirk. "You've got to turn this ship away! Either that or let loose a photon torpedo to blow that bastard to bits while there's still time!"

"Six seconds until...", started Spock as stoically as a Human might report the time remaining before reaching an R-and-R world's orbit whereupon some serious down-time would be undertaken. Rather than the impending doom of an entire starship's crew complement.

Then, just as suddenly, quickly cutting off the First Officer/Science Officer standing on the starboard side's elevated tier...

"Mr. Sulu, drop to sublight! Mr. Chekov, prepare to bring the ENTERPRISE around one hundred and eighty degrees!"

No sooner said...

"What...?" Leonard James suddenly exclaimed at the sight of the about-to-hit headlong Constitution-class starship instantaneously disappearing from the Warbird's, the two-year-old Teer's GENOCIDE ship!, squarish viewscreen. "Where did it go? Where did it go!"

Even as the held-under-duress Centurions worked to proffer the reality of the distressing-to-Teer situation...

"Starship speed," Lt. Hikaru Sulu swiftly said via his Helm controls as said Warp engines groaned grieviously, "back to Warp 8.8!"

"Launching photon torpedoes, Keptin!" seconded Ensign Pavel Chekov in his just-as-musical-as-Scotty's Russian, not Scottish!, accented tone, even as a once-inexperienced set of fingers firmly manipulated the necessary Navigation station controls to swiftly...

"Teer!" a Centurion at his sensors said with a certain insulting tone, as it pertained to the curiously welcome end to this Travesty of Dishonor. "Photon torpedo impact in two sec--"

Although utterly soundless in such hyperspacial surroundings, just as vacuous as sublight space, if sound did, indeed, travel therein, one would've heard a deafening...

BAAAROOOOOOMMMM!

"Nice shooting, Ensign," sighed, heavily, Captain James T. Kirk while allowing himself to slump into his center seat for the first time since this stress-producing charade had begun. "You took out their Warp nacelles without harming the main body of the Warbird."

"Thank you, Keptin," the youthful officer said with a mirthful smile as noticeable as that very Russian accent.

"Mr. Sulu," Kirk continued even as Dr. McCoy almost collapsed from surprise whilst clinging to the left armrest of that center seat. "Prepare for Warp Factor One."

"Aye, Captain. Warp One."

"Scotty," Kirk ordered of his port-situated Chief Engineer, as relieved as everyone else, possibly including the normally emotionless Mr. Spock!, "lock tractor beams onto that disabled Warbird. Take it in tow."

"With pleasure, Cap'n."

"Chekov," Kirk re-ordered of the handsome Ensign manning Navigation, whom was still mentally applauding his own swiftness with the torpedo controls. "Plot a course to the nearest Starbase."

"Aye, sir."

"Uhura," lastly said Kirk via a rotated-around lower tier-located command chair, "let Starfleet Command know that the invasion situation has been halted...and Teer Leonard James Akaar, along with some possibly confused-as-hell Romulans, will await proper processing at a Starbase to be verified via Navigation."

"Yes, Captain," came the ebon beauty's utterly relaxed, considering the direness previously placed, quite literally for a short time!, in their collective course. Stellar as well as personal.

As both the Captain and Dr. McCoy came to the red railing 'twixt lower tier and upper, on the starboard side of the circular bridge, Mr. Spock slowly straightened whilst looking slightly down into their relieved faces. Even as his usually passionless expression shone with a hint of relief as well.

"You do realize, Captain, that the likelihood your spur-of-the-moment command decision would end so successfully was precisely one hundred thousand, seven hundred..."

"If that's your way of congratulating me on a job-well-done," joked Kirk even as such was smilingly seconded by McCoy. "Then I thank you, Mr. Spock."

"Something tells me that even _you_," chimed in McCoy, never one to avoid any opportunity to needle the noisome, mostly to him!, half-Human/half-Vulcan, "will need some serious R-and-R after this, Spock. If you were completely Human, you'd damn near have pissed your pants like the rest of us."

"Fortunately, Doctor," Spock, always willing to get, laconically of course, The Last Word, "I am only half-Human. An accident of birth for which you, unfortunately, have no such excuse."

McCoy's mien melted into yet another owl-like glower, while Captain Kirk let a laugh, long in coming it would seem!, roll from his handsome Self before striding straight back to his center seat.

Spock, semi-emotional smirk firmly planted on his pallid-yet-green tinged Vulcan countenance, turned to sit in his Science station's swivel seat...

...leaving a lamentable Leonard H. McCoy to, very privately and very briefly, consider Commander Spock as much of a deep and dear friend as Captain James T. Kirk.

Not that one-half of the "godfathers" to Leonard James Akaar would dare admit it.

Save to himself.

END


End file.
